


Morning Occurrences

by LoverCrowley (ShadowScale)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Morning Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 10:29:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19439617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowScale/pseuds/LoverCrowley
Summary: Neither was exactly sure when it started, they only realized it had become commonplace. Going to bed each night and waking up together, that is.





	Morning Occurrences

Neither was exactly sure when it started, they only realized it had become commonplace. Going to bed each night and waking up together, that is.

Sometimes it was in the bedroom on the second floor of the bookshop. Sometimes it was in the bedroom of Crowley’s flat. Sometimes, if they had travelled, it was in the bedroom of some luxurious hotel.

Usually, they woke to sun streaming through the window blinds and painting strips of light across rumpled sheets. Usually, one or both groaned at being torn away from peaceful rest and thrown towards whatever the day had in store for them. Usually, Crowley pulled the covers tighter around them both and begged they stay in just a few more minutes. Usually, Aziraphale let him.

Always, the first real words out of Aziraphale’s mouth were _good morning_. Crowley’s first words varied more, from _good morning_ to _ugh, I’m still sleeping_. Always, Crowley wrapped his arms and legs around the angel, if his limbs weren’t already there. Aziraphale once teasingly asked him if he was sure he wasn’t an octopus instead of a snake. Always, Aziraphale held him in return and pressed his face against his chest. Crowley would breath deep, relax at the smell of lavender and subtle citrus that seems to emanate from the angel. Always, they would run their hands through each other’s hair, making it stick up at wild angles. Aziraphale silently regretted the loss of Crowley’s longer hairstyles; they had been nice to play with. Always, they hoped each morning would start with the comfort of the other’s presence. They did their best to make it happen.


End file.
